Pandemic
by Atmospheric
Summary: [AU] Mission: Extermination; the undead reign over the living - but not for long. [eventual Sasori x Sakura]
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is just a fun project, I don't really care if you love it or hate it, I just hope it brings you some amusement either way. And as a side note - this will probably have a SasoSaku pairing, although that's not the focus of the story. (Sexual interactions will eventually be the reason its rated M.) ;D

Click the review button to let me know how I'm doing!

* * *

**PANDEMIC**

Chapter 01

. . .

_Because one day I'll leave you, a phantom to lead you in the summer, to join The Black Parade._

Welcome to the Black Parade - My Chemical Romance

. . .

Uchiha Itachi lay submerged in the overgrown grass; his lithe form propped by exposed elbows as he stared through the scope of a sniper rifle. "Target confirmed."

From his position on the crest of a long sloping hill, Itachi oversaw the majority of combat. He rarely made a move but the undead seemed to be cropping up from the wilderness below, pushing him to further diligence. Fortunately, the man was always observant and constantly analyzed the erratic movement of their opponents.

At this particular moment he was watching as his partner sliced through the waves of approaching undead. Hoshigaki Kisame was a skilled swordsman; with Itachi above and the broader man below, they were an almost unstoppable team. _Almost. _There were always shortcomings, but these were compensated for by the rest of their unit - Konan and Pein, who were a separately functioning two-man team, and Zetsu, the man who served as their scout and information specialist.

Together these five made up the ground team.

"It's about damn time," Kisame grunted into his headset.

His muscled form moved with surprising agility as he sidestepped out of the path of a particularly swift zombie and put distance between himself and the growing mass of mindless beasts. His small silvery eyes focused on Itachi before giving the younger man a sharp nod. _Nice work Kisame, I'll take it from here, _he smirked as the swordsman made his way back to their leader. They were under orders to regroup as soon as the threat in this sector was eliminated.

With one in the chamber, the talented sniper put his onyx eyes back to the scope. The wind was negligible, there was no interference with his shot. As Itachi dropped one index finger to the trigger, he let his other hand roam down to the magazine clip which stored a set of seven remaining bullets. He had nine targets - his lips pressed into a stern line. Challenge accepted.

Itachi pressed the trigger and listened to the muffled roar of gunfire. One down. He repositioned the barrel of the military issue rifle and picked off each target with ease. A satisfying geyser of blood and gore followed each of his headshots. The raven-haired man watched with a grimace as bullets pierced the soft skulls of the rotting corpses below. They scrambled amongst themselves as they were killed, like rats searching for the invisible source of their doom. Pitiful, disgusting things.

One let out an inhuman hiss and Itachi was disturbed to realize it was the one that had lunged at his partner with a speed not common to those shambling creatures. He instinctively hit the trigger and listened to the click that symbolized an empty chamber. The sniper cursed under his breath as he watched the straggler thud into the forest.

He had no option but to give chase. Pein would not tolerate failure on this: the zombie was too close to the survivors' base. If he remembered correctly, the mobile team had not come out on this mission, that meant five survivors were at the base and were completely unprepared to deal with any threat. Itachi had to eliminate this last target.

The slender man pushed his lying form off the ground, not bothering to brush the dried grass from his dark clothing. He grabbed a knife from his rifle bag and sprinted down the hill, taking note of his location so he could come back and retrieve his gear at a later time. His current priority was obvious.

Upon reaching the edge of the forest, Itachi crashed into the trees. His face was composed, his breathing light, being careful to maintain a quiet approach. Undead didn't normally pose that much of a threat individually, but his knife skills were rusty and he always was a cautious man. It wasn't long before he heard the familiar groan of lopsided steps, the sound could have been mistaken for an injured pedestrian but Itachi knew better - after living through this hell for seven months, one learned to distinguish between people and zombies.

He was virtually silent as he crept into a break in the trees. Sunlight filtered down through the canopy, catching on fallen leaves. Uchiha Itachi stopped abruptly, noticing an unnatural color splashed against the green background: pink. A soft pink that resembled the color of cherry blossoms in the spring. It was a lovely and grounding sight. And it was attached to a young woman, perhaps twenty. Her back was turned toward him and the stumbling zombie and she was hunched over a leafy plant.

Itachi moved swiftly, slicing the head off of the menacing creature with one swipe. Blood splattered across his face and into the hair of the girl crouching in front of him. She flinched. Itachi watched idly as the body fell to the ground with a crunch and the girl spun around. First he noticed her eyes, the color of gemstones and glittering just as brightly in her anger. Her eyebrows were knit together and her teeth were bared - an expression of pure rage.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!"

Her tone was full of poison but he couldn't help the amusement that bubbled inside him at the thought of such a tone coming from her. She was much shorter than him but well muscled and slim from what he assumed was intense exercise. Whether this exercise occurred before or after the zombie apocalypse was all guesswork.

"I just saved your life. You don't appear grateful for my timely intervention," came his answer.

The pinkette stared at him, her expression shifting from anger to disbelief.

"I can take care of myself." As she said this, she turned her back on him and snapped a low-hanging branch from the tree above. Itachi winced slightly at how abrupt the simple motion was but he didn't allow the reaction to show in his expression. She tossed the weighty branch onto a section of light between them, about a foot from where the zombie now lay. It was snapped in half by a bear trap hidden beneath the withering leaves.

Emerald eyes met his own and she raised her eyebrows, setting one slender hand on her hip as if to say _How's that? _Itachi was taken slightly off guard by his own inability to spot the trap - it was hidden incredibly well.

"What's your name?" he questioned, moderately interested.

"Oh _no, _I don't think so."

Raven eyebrows knit together, "You won't tell me your name?"

The pink-haired girl rolled her eyes before resting her gaze back on his face. She observed him critically for a moment, he looked so cute when he was confused. She let her eyes skim his figure briefly - he didn't _look _like a murderer. Noticing her roaming gaze, Itachi smirked.

"What if I say please?" he added in a husky voice.

A shiver shot up her spine, an unwanted response to the sexy tone. "Haruno Sakura."

Her tone was conceding, now he could probably get anything he wanted from her. At the moment his principal interest was reporting her presence to the leader and hopefully bringing this Sakura with him. She appeared to be quite resourceful, as the trap she had set was handmade. She could prove to be asset to their meager group.

Most notably, the herbs she had been bent over only minutes early were a rare type of medicine and the fact that she could tell them apart from any other plant spoke highly of her medical capabilities. Itachi's group was comprised mainly of fighters, the medic they had available was a man whose only qualification was that he had previously dabbled in poisons. He made an excellent weapons specialist but a less pleasant healer.

"How would you like to come to our base-" he began.

"No."

That single word held more finality than he had expected but he would not be deterred by this fiery little girl. He watched as she put a hand to her hair, picking at the clumps now matted together with dried blood - zombie blood. Sakura looked absolutely disgusted and he could swear he heard a soft whimper escape those pink lips.

"We have a fully functional shower."

The pinkette paused, her fingers still playing with tangled locks. She seemed to be considering his latest statement and Itachi was certain that he had won as he watched the contemplative look cross over her pretty features. Nothing sounded more appealing to Sakura in that moment than the opportunity to take a shower, but could she trust him? She shrugged her tense shoulders lightly. She was more than capable of defending herself against this charming character. _Did I just think of him as charming? _

Perhaps some shelter from the heat would be necessary too; yes, it had to be the heat. She had just noticed the dryness in her mouth and the fact that sweat was seeping into her red tank top and would become visible any moment now. She blushed slightly. In her mild irritation and embarrassment, Sakura failed to realize that he had specified the base as 'ours' which implied he wasn't the only one she would be dealing with.

"Where is this base of yours?"

Itachi smirked, gesturing for her to follow with a flick of his hand.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Alright, I won't lie, I'm shocked that so many people have already followed/favorited this story. Did not see that coming, thanks so much guys! Special thanks to Isolationism [love the name by the way], DiizGiirlJess, and Laylagirl111 for reviewing; you keep me going!

* * *

**PANDEMIC**

Chapter 02

**. . .**

_Chaotic, psychotic, death defying, lifeless logic!_

Zombie - Family Force 5

. . .

Akasuna no Sasori sat at a wooden table, digging his teal nails into the scratched surface. It looked as if it had been through hell - it probably had. He had little interest in the furniture to be completely honest, but boredom was rampaging through his system as surely as his own blood and he needed something to busy his idle hands. Fortunately, his lethargic state was brought to an end by Uchiha Itachi and an unfamiliar girl.

"And who is this brat?" he queried.

He moved from his rickety seat in a single fluid motion, quickly crossing the distance between himself and the newcomer. She seemed to be made out of porcelain; flawless skin, eyes carved from emeralds, and short pink hair. _Pink. _The corners of his mouth raised into an involuntarily smirk. Despite all of this, she was no different from the table: coated with blood and dirt.

"This is -"

Itachi was cut off by Sakura's indignant response, "I can answer for myself, thanks. My name is Haruno Sakura and I will not hesitate to kick your ass if you ever call me brat again." The words were no bluff, she could stand up for herself; not only was she good with a knife, she also fought excellently hand to hand. The pinkette had utmost confidence in her ability to take him down. He wasn't much taller than her, possibly an inch or two.

As she discreetly studied him, Sakura noticed that he was, in many respects, just as attractive as the man she had met earlier. Had she forgotten to get his name? Damn. Anyway, this Sasori had pleasantly unkempt cinnamon hair and eyes the shade of chocolate. He was slender which was evident by the fitted black v-neck he wore. She found her eyes tracing down his ivory skin before getting caught on his wrist when she noticed he was wearing a black band that had the word PINOCCHIO spelled out in scarlet letters along its length.

Her eyebrows knit together in a confusion but she didn't dwell on it long.

"I outrank you so I'll call you whatever I desire brat," he smirked, "But if that's a challenge, I'll see it." As he spoke he let one of his hands travel to his waist and rest there. His half-lidded expression gave Sakura a silent thrill, it was the second time today that she had found a stranger completely alluring. She ground her teeth at the mockery in his tone. Oh _hell _no.

Itachi nearly groaned at the scene playing out before him, it was so typical of his redhead colleague to create needless trouble. He wouldn't say that Sasori was rash, because nothing could be further from the truth - he was inestimably clever. The brutal silence drove Itachi to clear his throat before speaking again, "Where is Pein?"

"Not sure, I assumed he would be with you," Sasori answered dully.

_Very helpful. _Itachi deadpanned; he should have expected that he would be the first to arrive back to the hotel that formed their base. His timeliness knew no bounds, though he himself was a patient man, he did not care to keep people waiting for him. It was not the way they had taught him during military boarding school - apparently their leader had not learned that lesson however.

Moving his onyx eyes back to Sakura, he came to the conclusion that a shower might be in order before she were to meet anyone else. His head thundered; he always contracted a headache when he concentrated, being a sniper was quite possibly not the ideal employment.

"Show her to the bathrooms, I need to -" Itachi didn't bother to finish his request before walking away, he knew Sasori well enough to know he shouldn't give the shorter man an option to answer.

The redhead growled internally, but after a brief glance around, decided he had nothing more interesting to do than show this brat to the bathrooms; besides, she _needed_ one. He began to lead, seemingly indifferent to whether or not she followed. If she had not desired a soak, Sakura would have taken this opportunity to put some distance between herself and the irritating man before her.

"What's his name, anyway?" she asked, glancing around the dilapidated building. It looked as though it was at one point a home owned hotel. It consisted of two open floors, the first with a corridor that led to a row of rooms. It seemed there were a total of six smaller rooms and two masters; all but three appeared to be occupied. That rose the headcount from two to about eight. "And how many people live here?"

"Uchiha Itachi, I am Akasuna no Sasori, and approximately eleven, not including our newest addition."

He seemed relatively calm as he answered her questions and more. _Newest addition? _Oh, he meant her. She supposed it was good that he was acknowledging her as a survivor and a fellow housemate. It was close enough to approval. She frowned at the total count however.

So many. She hadn't seen that many survivors since Konoha fell to the undead, and now she would meet eleven in the same house - Sakura hadn't even been sure that that many survived the sudden onset of infection. It was far better than being alone though, if they offered her their home she would gladly take a place in it, even if she would have to see Akasuna no Sasori on a regular basis.

The two wandered past the main desk and toward the far back corner of the floor space, very close the stairs that led to the second floor. It would make an excellent defensive position should their ever be an invasion in this region, seeing as most zombies couldn't climb. There were, as with any breed, variants. Some who were faster, more dexterous, possibly retaining the most brain function out of their brethren. They were the dangerous ones, that much was evident.

"Here we are." Sasori stopped directly in front of her, his voice half muffled by a yawn. As he turned the doorknob to let her in, she noticed smudges of pencil led across the length of his slim fingers. _An artist, eh? _Sakura had a difficult time picturing him slaving over a sketchbook, much less being any good at it. She snorted to herself at the idea of him being talented at anything as sophisticated as drawing; still, there was a possibility.

She took the knob from him and was just about to close and lock the door when she heard his lax voice calling to her again. "Oh, and by the way Sakura-_chan_, feel free to call me if you get lonely in there." With those parting words he was down the corridor and out of sight. The pinkette felt a heated blush spread across her face and she slammed the door behind him leaning against it for support as she huffed in anger and embarrassment. _That asshole. _

She pushed herself away from the wooden surface and quickly removed her clothing, dropping it carelessly onto the tile floor. Once she had scrubbed the dirt off of herself she would have plenty of time to deal with the filthy apparel. Sakura sighed and stepped into the porcelain tub as a shiver racked her spine. The air conditioning was out of control in this building but it was better than having none at all - it was reassuring to know some fundamental appliances still worked in this rickety old building.

After the most soothing half hour she had experienced in seven months, Sakura stepped out of the steaming bathroom in a fresh ensemble. Her skin glowed a soft pink, absolutely stunning after being cleansed thoroughly with soap. She was on cloud nine until BOOM!

The girl winced and covered her ears with shaky hands. _What the hell was that enormous explosion!_ she questioned as her wobbly knees led her in the direction of the piercing sound. Her curiosity led her to one of the multiple occupied rooms, she glanced inside anxiously and saw Sasori standing over a kneeling blonde that she didn't recognize.

By the looks of it, the blonde was being strongly reprimanded. Smoke funneled through the room, but it wasn't nearly as effective at attracting her attention in that instant as Sasori. The redhead was biting back a few choice words - but that wasn't exactly the reason her eyes were drawn to him.

No, the reason was more because he was no longer donning a shirt. Sakura's jaw dropped. He was just as slender as she had pictured; what she hadn't banked on was how well muscled he was. Light, sexy ridges that made her blush as she followed them straight down to the V of his hips where his jeans hung low on his waist. _Oh my -_

"I think you have a visitor, un."

Sasori turned, his eyes were narrowed in irritation at the fact that he just had to sacrifice his perfectly good shirt to prevent Deidara's latest experiment from ruining their room. When he saw the pinkette standing there, staring intently at him, his expression lightened.

"Like what you see?"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This is just a quick one-shot for a challenge that is being sponsored by TK Grimm. (If you haven't visited their page I would recommend doing so!) It is a stand alone and isn't necessary to the plotline of the larger story entitled Pandemic. Anyway, hope you like, feel free to review and let me know what you think!

EDIT: After a suggestion from TK Grimm, I decided to add this as the third chapter to Pandemic because I suppose it does give a bit of enlightenment into their current situation and saves me from having to explain a few things about the Akatsuki and what not.

**ALSO! PLEASE READ THIS:**

I am thinking about adding another character in this story aside from the Akatsuki and Sakura; in the first chapter I debated on having Kiba and Akamaru travelling with Sakura and later I thought it would be interesting to have Hinata in a coma being watched after by the Akatsuki but then I kind of lost interest in both of those ideas. If YOU have a character you'd like to see let me know, okay? I might just add them in. c:

* * *

**PANDEMIC**

Chapter 03

** . . .**

_I feel it on the tip of my tongue, these words fall out like tears from a gun._

Tears from a Gun - The Black Ghosts

. . .

One hand was tossed over the steering wheel. The other secured a rather large tire that occupied all of the passenger seat and was currently attempting to crowd into the driver's too as he took a turn that would have earned him a pretty stiff ticket if this wasn't the zombie apocalypse.

Turned out that most police officers didn't have time to hide behind trees on back roads when there were undead roaming around. Speaking of which - Deidara redirected his gaze to the windshield which was spattered with all manner of winged insects. His clear blue eyes locked onto those of a straggler; its clouded irises watched him intently as it let out a decidedly predatory squawk.

Deidara jerked the wheel once again, using his wrist more than his hand, and slammed into the bastard. It's already degrading body hit the bumper and flew into the windshield, meeting the same fate as an innumerable quantity of bugs. Of course, it was difficult to kill something that was already dead so he took his second hand away from the tire and put his four wheel drive into reverse.

His foot hit the gas pedal with an unnecessary amount of force and the zombie flew off, hitting the ground with a heavy thud. Deidara shifted gears once more and ran back over its lying form, earning a sickening crunch. The blonde scooped his hair out of his eye and checked the rearview mirror. "Should've picked easier prey, un." Satisfied with his work, he grinned and plowed ahead.

It was shocking just how quickly roads took a turn for the worse when not under supervision. This one in particular was riddled with potholes that kept Deidara on edge and made him grind his teeth whenever he felt the Jeep buckle and dive into them.

He wasn't exactly concerned for the car, even though he knew some of the deeper cracks could have easily thrown it out of alignment. Instead his principal worry was for his comrades. Deidara served as the driver for the mobile unit - he had some other functions as well but that was the most crucial. In effect, he was in charge of making sure they could shoot out of the windows with at least _some _accuracy and a rocky trip only increased the difficulty of that task.

All the same, he was a _damn_ good driver; a few years in Los Angeles running with a gang of street racers confirmed that skill.

Deidara was forced to refocus on the present when the tire, still sitting precariously beside him, responded angrily to one of the dips and nearly took off his head. Quick reflexes had just barely allowed him to dodge the massive rubber donut. He grunted and stopped the vehicle before forcing the offending object back into place.

Once he was certain that it was secure, Deidara hammered onto the gas once again but was met with the revving of an engine and spinning tires. Blonde eyebrows knit together in confusion as he threw the car door open and stepped out - the front left tire was stuck in a practically bottomless pit. "God damn it!" His teeth gnashed together as his bright eyes scanned the horizon.

About a mile away stood the bed and breakfast the rest of his unit was sheltered at. It wasn't a terrible distance away; he could always return the next day to free the 'four wheel drive' from its current predicament. It was one of two cars in their possession, but they still couldn't afford to lose it. Deidara steeled his resolve and crossed over to the passenger side of the Jeep.

On the floor was the machete he habitually brought every time he went into town. With the blade in one hand, Deidara hacked away a large piece of rubber from the troublesome tire; he wouldn't be able to carry the entire thing back but he needed the heavy substance as a thickener in his bombs. Molotov cocktails to be precise - it was an art that Deidara knew quite a bit about and it was his _other _specialization within the group.

Just something he had picked up in the seven months of hell since the first onset of plague.

Moving to the trunk, he chose a black backpack to throw the tire scrap into and slipped it onto his back for mere convenience. He then strapped on a holster that held one of his flammable elixirs: it was a simple glass bottle filled with an orange tinted liquid and plugged up by what functioned as a wick but looked more like a cork stopper.

Last but not least, Deidara snatched up the grocery bag that contained his primary reason for going into town in the first place. Medicine. The blonde grumbled under his breath, releasing a long string of curses about how useless Uchiha Itachi was because of his constant headaches. The elder man had been diagnosed at an early age with severe optical migraines. Something about pressure around his eyes - Deidara wasn't sure, he had still been bitter towards Itachi at that point and hadn't care to hear about his condition.

Not that he was particularly fond of the Uchiha now - he had found the blonde a few months after the outbreak and had forced him into the Akatsuki upon determination of his possibility as an asset. Perhaps if the Akatsuki was a typical group of survivors Deidara would have seen a benefit in joining forces with them, but they were anything but.

No, the Akatsuki was an organization that took the battle to the undead. Instead of fighting to maintain the existence of the human race, they fought for the utter annihilation of zombies. For a new "dawn" in which people would no longer have to fear for their lives. It was a noble cause, but it was also downright stupid. Deidara would be satisfied to simply survive the damn apocalypse.

None of that mattered now though, he had made connections in the group that he could never hope to sever. He would have to weather out this storm alongside the nine other members. A weak smile slid over his lips as Deidara contemplated the futility of his position.

"At least I'll go out with a bang."

He slammed the trunk back into place and with his free hand managed to pull his long blonde locks into a band on his wrist, leaving half of them down in a characteristic ponytail. "Let's do this, un."

Deidara swaggered forward unhurriedly, the weather was rather pleasant and he wasn't in any rush to be on lockdown in a heavily air-conditioned building. A shiver worked its way down his spine as if he were already in his icy room. He rubbed his hands against the lightly bronzed skin of his arms in an attempt to ward off the preemptive chill.

After a series of seconds Deidara fixated his attention on walking. The terrain was not particularly rocky but it was rocky and consisted of endless slopes. He had chosen to follow the road given that it was a sure way to remain on track - this meant he would have to concentrate on not tripping over crags. There wasn't exactly a vast horde of undead lurking in these parts but it wouldn't do to be thrown off balance and then attacked head on by a variant.

The blonde groaned at the very idea of meeting a variant out here. Those were the dangerous bastards, the elite of their group. A typical zombie was a lethargic and thunderous beast with no capacity for stealth. However, there were others - namely variants - that had retained some meager abilities such as muffling their steps or moving with increased swiftness. They were unpleasant to say the least.

Deidara stared down at the pavement, watching the way his black combat boots scuffed against endless asphalt. He only looked up when his keen hearing alerted him to another presence in the surrounding vicinity. Blue eyes scrutinized their surroundings, searching with detached precision for the source of the noise. When a lone zombie broke through the trees a little ways ahead he grinned but the expression didn't last long as the creature was joined by four of its companions.

"I can't catch a break, un," Deidara huffed, stealing his only available Molotov cocktail from its holster. His fingers moved instinctively, diving inside the right pocket of his black jeans and clasping around the lighter he always kept there.

When he drew the item out, his adversaries began their frantic shamble towards him. He could only imagine what was going on inside the minds of those deranged beings as they struggled in his direction. He only knew that they wouldn't be walking much longer.

"Prepare to die, un!" He let a chuckle tear out of his throat as he lit the wick on the glass bottle and threw it into the group. The blast could be seen in the reflection of his eyes, those blue depths changed to an intense orange for a split second as ravenous flames consumed rotting flesh. Deidara grinned, watching the consumption with a steadily rising excitement. "Hell yeah!"

The fireball began to dissipate as it burned through the available fuel, revealing one survivor. The blonde grabbed the machete strapped to his side and sprinted toward the charred zombie. It uttered an inhuman scream as the sharpened blade pierced through layers of flesh. Deidara gritted his teeth as he used the momentum to slice clean through its neck.

He slid on the now gravelly road; once he had steadied himself he turned around to see five crumpled corpses lying in a combination of ash and blood. His gaze lowered to the fitted white shirt he wore and immediately signaled his distaste. He was now drenched in zombie blood, it soaked him down to the skin. He scrunched his face in disgust but tried not to dwell on it.

What really upset him was the use of his last homemade bomb. He was suddenly very glad he had chosen to cut off that piece of tire. He would need it to make another few explosives when he reached the base. They were extremely useful weapons to have - their high lethality and almost certain chance to maim made them an excellent trump card.

There were drawbacks of course, such as the potential of spontaneous ignition - but what was life without risks anyway? _Boring._

* * *

After another twenty minutes of rather uneventful walking, Deidara finally stepped into the lobby of a pleasant two story building that looked quite a bit like a hybrid between a hotel and a home. He listened absently to the click of his boots on the grimy tiled floors as he made his way toward the corridor that housed the majority of bedrooms. He passed several before stopping in front of a thick wooden door.

An elegant scroll of birds and flowers was carved seamlessly into the dark cherry wood. It was a lovely display that marked the room as belonging to two artists, namely himself and his roommate Akasuna no Sasori. However, that was not what caught his attention. He had locked the door on his way out earlier in the afternoon; now it was slightly ajar.

He pushed the surface open and stepped into the dimly lit room. Underneath a sunlamp sat a cinnamon-haired man that he recognized immediately as his roommate. _Oh shit, did I lock Sasori out again, un?_

Deidara slipped further into the floor space with an edge of inhibition as he waited for the elder to turn a narrowed honey gaze at him. No such thing occurred. In fact, the redhead looked rather pacified by whatever he was absorbed in. Taking a few cautious steps toward the man proved that he was currently bent over a sketchbook with a pink colored pencil poised in one dexterous hand.

The blonde had seen Sasori do a lot of things but he could not recall ever seeing him anywhere around the color pink, much less using it in a drawing. To his knowledge, Sasori abhorred the color, marked it as being too feminine and all around a loud and obnoxious hue. Deidara's jaw went slack as he watched his partner outline add choppy pink hair to the beginnings of a woman's face.

"Danna, what are you doing?" he asked, raising a limp finger to point at the picture.

Honey eyes widened but the startled expression was concealed by several unruly locks of hair. He set down the drawing utensil carefully and folded his hands over what he had sketched so far. "I don't see why that matters," he answered in a warning tone.

Deidara grinned, "Who is she, un?"

His question was rewarded by a cold glare from Sasori and followed up by a grunt of displeasure. Apparently the redhead saw no use in keeping the secret, quite possibly because Deidara would meet their newest recruit eventually.

"Haruno Sakura," he answered casually. "Itachi found her in the forest."

It was Deidara's turn to be displeased. _Itachi has forced another one into servitude huh?_ He lost sight of his purpose in asking and instead let a growl seep out from his throat. "That asshole, someone should put him in his place, un. I can't believe -"

"He owned you once and you know damn well that the outcome would be the same." The seated man stretched his legs underneath the desk and chuckled to himself at the hurt look on his partner's face as the words reached him. The vast majority of the time, Sasori found the blonde unbearably annoying but once in a while he was reminded of the younger's comedic value. "Besides, she came willingly."

Deidara's pained expression turned into one of shock. Who would ever join the Akatsuki out of sheer compliance? She must have been insane even to consider such a thing, either that or suicidal. The blonde tossed his head in a dramatic display of pity and sighed. "Poor girl, un. Where is she anyway?"

"In the shower."

Deidara deadpanned. There it was, the reason she had sacrificed her life: because the Akatsuki lived in one of the only remaining buildings with a backup generator. That meant they had running water and electricity. He supposed it was an understandable action but he hardly considered it a fair trade. After a few moments of disbelieving silence, Deidara threw his backpack onto his bed.

It was one of two identical platforms, with the same quilted blankets as the other but the mattress was comfortable and he had no room to complain. Removing his holster, the blonde plopped onto the rug-covered floor with a glass bottle, his spare scrap of tire, and a jar of gasoline that he had siphoned from an abandoned car a few days ago.

His fingers flew across the materials laid out before him as Sasori became engrossed in his work once again. He easily replicated his previous concoctions, adding a section of melted rubber to it for good measure. In a matter of minutes he had constructed a replacement Molotov cocktail that could be slipped into the holster and deposited into the car -

The car.

"Oh, uh, Danna -" Deidara started anxiously.

"What do you want now, brat," came the impatient reply.

"Well, I had to leave the Jeep behind because it got stuck in a pretty deep pothole and I couldn't push it out by myself and all, un," he scrambled for the words, losing focus on his experiment. He flailed his arms in a motion of surrender and knocked over the explosive. Still distracted, Deidara continued to try to explain as Sasori rose.

Before he even realized what was happening, Deidara had been shoved back by his roommate, who was now in the progress of rapidly stripping off his shirt. He threw the black article over the bottle, preventing air from reaching and igniting the fluid. Smoke rose from the glass and sifted out of his shirt all the same but the redhead had just successfully saved their room - and themselves - from a deadly fireball.

"Pay attention when you're dealing with weapons brat!" Sasori hissed behind clenched teeth.

He would never admit it but for a moment the honey-eyed man was terrified he would lose his only friend. Panic constricted his throat and his heart thundered, it took all of his energy to suppress his rapid breaths. To his fortune, Deidara was too humiliated and shocked to notice any of these things.

His hands were splayed out in his long blonde hair and his eyes were frenzied. _Damn it. _He could be an idiot sometimes, but this was unacceptable. Deidara cursed under his breath before directing his gaze back to Sasori. He could see the a glint of frustration in the eyes of Akasuna no Sasori, and something else, but he couldn't place just what it was. He thought for a moment it might be concern but it vanished too quickly for him to put a proper name to it. Deidara frowned.

They stayed just like that for a few seconds, watching the fuming chemicals until someone sprinted through the door. She was surprisingly quiet as she entered, and at first the blonde didn't recognize her at all but it soon became clear that she was the same woman from Sasori's drawing. Pink hair framed pale skin that was flushed pink from the heat of a shower. Gemstone eyes were set wide in shock.

It took Deidara a moment to regain his composure enough to speak as the tension in the room rose significantly. "I think you have a visitor, un."

He watched as Sasori turned, watched a flicker of surprise show briefly in his features, watched as his friend realized that this girl was staring at his exposed frame. Then a smirk formed across the redhead's lips and he said in a casual tone, "Like what you see?"

Deidara snickered under his breath at the blatant flirt. This was very much unlike the Sasori he knew. _Damn Danna, she's already got you wrapped around her finger, un._

This would certainly be an eventful evening.


End file.
